


Mikey Bakes a Cake

by doobler



Category: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 17:05:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18098504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doobler/pseuds/doobler
Summary: Mikey bakes a cake





	Mikey Bakes a Cake

Michelangelo set the oven for 350°F, tied his favorite "Kiss the Cook" apron around his waist, and waited. April would arrive any second now with supplies. As much as he wanted to go grocery shopping on his own, Mikey knew it was a bad idea. The upper levels of New York were getting more and more dangerous as time passed and, even with disguises, their track record for avoiding fights was abysmal. 

"Heyooo! Fresh food delivery for a Mikeyanjello!"

The youngest turtle giggled, striding out of the kitchen and into the lair's living room. April was waiting, plastic bags gripped between her fingers. She gave him a sympathetic smile, leaning in for a hug as they traded hands.

"Hey, take it easy, okay?" She spoke softly, giving his cheek a gentle pat. "I'll be around if you need me."

"Yeah, thanks, April." Mikey smiled, playfully bowing at the waist before returning to the kitchen.

The oven was still preheating. Pulling out his phone, Mikey reread the recipe. He'd already planned a few revisions and additions ahead of time. Hopefully, it would all go to plan.

Lining a circular pan with parchment paper, he began to whip the eggs and sugar together in a separate bowl. When they became homogeneous and fluffy, he laid a hand sieve over the bowl, adding in the flour. It looked like freshly fallen snow, bright, white, and light. Taking a spatula, he folded in the flour, careful not to break the airiness of the eggs. Once everything was properly incorporated, he added a mixture of melted butter and milk.

Mikey paused, breathing in deeply through his nose. Cooking always helped him center himself and find a sense of inner peace. 

Into the lined pan went the batter, now voluminous and a lovely pale golden hue. He tapped the pan's base against the counter a few times to clear any bubbles and level it all out. Sliding it into the oven, he set a timer on his phone for 23 minutes exactly.

As the cake baked, Mikey began to prepare the next step.

Sugar and water was melted in the microwave to create a glossy soaking syrup of sorts. From the rest of the grocery bags, he procured a carton of strawberries, a carton of blueberries, a bag of purple grapes, and a can of mandarin orange slices. He cut them all into nearly equal sized chunks, saving a few of each fruit that looked pretty enough for garnish. In a chilled metal bowl, he beat together powdered sugar, vanilla, and heavy cream until it doubled in size, graduating from a liquid to a delicious whipped topping. Just as he went to sit down, his phone alarm buzzed.

"This is going by a lot faster than I remember," Mikey huffed, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Gotta keep going!"

Pulling the cake from the oven, he inverted it onto a rack, peeling away the pan and parchment paper so it could cool. Once it reached room temperature, he sliced it in half and laid out both layers. The bottom level was painted with the syrup and soaked well through. Then came a layer of whipped cream, a healthy blanket of the fruits, and another good helping of whipped cream. He gingerly laid the second layer on top, taking it nice and slow as the entire cake was cloaked in whipped topping. He tried to mold cute little artsy dollops around the top but, without a pastry bag, he couldn't do much. He made up for it by arranging the remaining strawberries, blueberries, grapes, and oranges in a lovely flower shaped pattern. Pulling out his phone, he snapped a pic.

"Sweet." Mikey giggled.

Cutting out a few thick slices, he took the first to master Splinter. Instead of his usual Japanese game shows, he was watching the news, a rather grim scowl etched into his usually jolly features. He only looked away when Mikey directly entered his line of vision. A few wrinkles faded as a gentle smile graced his lips.

"Michelangelo," Splinter beamed. "What have you got there?"

"It's uh a cake," Mikey passed him the plate and a fork. His hands shook slightly. "I just made it."

"I was worried I was going insane, smelling something so good," Splintered chuckled, already taking a big bite. "Mm! Delicious, my boy! Very light, very sweet, very tasty."

Mikey bowed his head, blinking back tears. Splinter merely fixed him with a smile, reaching out to take one of his son's hands in both of his own.

"I'm very proud of you, Mikey."

The youngest turtle nodded a few times, swiping at his eyes before excusing himself. He tried his best to reel it in as he grabbed the next slice and made his way to Leo's room. It was a mess, as always, but Mikey was an expert by now in dodging over skateboards and basketballs, comic books and DVD cases. He shuffled over to Leo's bed where the second youngest turtle was propped up by pillows and blankets. Both legs were in casts and he had bandages wrapped all around his plastron. When he noticed Mikey, a delighted smile brightened up his face.

"Heyyy, if it ain't my favorite baby bro!" Leo beamed, setting down his phone. "What's up, dude?"

"I made a cake," Mikey handed over his slice. "I hope you like it."

"Aww, Mikey! I'm really diggin' the color scheme," Leo snickered, tapping the plate with his fork for emphasis. "Damn, but does it look good!"

He took a big bite, eyes fluttering shut as he savored the flavor. His genuine delight was apparent, especially when he didn't stop making all sorts of happy noises as he ate.

"Wow!" He finally spoke after about five mouthfuls. "That's spectacular, dude! You made this all by yourself?!"

"Sure did." Mikey replied, shyly rocking back and forth.

"Aw, it's really fucking good, I like it a lot."

They leaned in, sharing a tight hug. Leo kept eating, flashing his younger brother a very content thumbs up as he backed out of the room and into the kitchen.

Next was Donnie's room. Cake in hand, Mikey passed through the curtain. The lab was entirely dark, not a single screen or device turned on. It was eerily quiet. Ducking into the actual bedroom portion of Donnie's space, Mikey found the second oldest turtle lying on his side, facing away from the door. His entire shell was wrapped in bandages and a few cuts and bruises had gauze taped on them. He was utterly silent, breathing slowly. Mikey very gingerly touched the hot compress lain across his forehead. It was cold. Setting down the slice of cake, he took the towel and headed back to the kitchen. He ran it under hot water, wrung it out, folded it, and brought it back upstairs. When he returned, the cake was gone, only crumbs remaining. With a smile, his heart aching, Mikey placed the hot towel back over Donnie's forehead and left.

Lastly, he headed for Raph's room.

With the biggest slice so far, Mikey crept inside the eldest turtle's room. All the lights were on, the faint chattering of background noise filling the room. Raph was watching something on his phone, his uninjured hand fiddling with the volume control. His other arm was folded and held in a sling, bandages wrapped from his knuckles all the way up his shoulder. His head was swaddled as well, and many smaller band-aids littered his legs. He grinned when Mikey stepped forward.

"Hey there, champ," Raph crooned, setting down his phone. "Whatcha got there?"

"It's uhm. It's a cake. I made. Just now. In the kitchen. By myself."

"Oh wow!" Raph took the offering, setting the plate down on his bed and picking up the fork. "It looks really good!"

Lifting up a bite, his grin only grew wider.

"Did you pick fruit to match our colors?"

Mikey nodded.

"That's the cutest thing I've ever seen in my entire life."

Raph took a big bite, humming happily from deep within his chest. He took another and another and another and, in no time at all, cleaned his plate completely. There was some whipped cream left on his cheek, easily licked up to leave no evidence behind.

"That was delicious, Mikey," Raph didn't stop smiling, passing back the plate and fork. "You should be proud, you did a great job!"

Swallowing thickly, Mikey nodded slightly, turning to leave. He only made it a few steps before Raph spoke again.

"Hey, uh. I don't. We don't. Want you to feel. Bad."

Hands shaking, Mikey slowly looked back at his big brother. Raph's smile had dropped completely, replaced with knit brows and a pained frown. He scratched at his neck, trying to maintain eye contact.

"Please don't blame yourself, Mikey," He continued. "If. We had the chance, we'd do it all over again--"

"That's. Not okay," Mikey replied, his voice thick with tears. "I'm. I need to. You shouldn't have to--"

"It's got nothin' to do with how strong you are or whatever," Raph cut in, his voice firm. "You're. You're the youngest. That doesn't make you week. It means we're terrified of losing you. Of losing you so young. If you were ten times stronger than all of us, that wouldn't change a thing--"

"Yes it would have!" Mikey shot back. "I would've gotten us out! I would've saved us! I would've saved  _you_!"

"None of us alone could've done that!" Raph's voice rose. He was tearing up as well. "We work  _together_! We fight  _together_! We survive  _together_! We only wanted you to be  _safe_! Because we love you!"

Mikey flinched, eyes wide. He dropped the plate, ignoring as the fork clattered to the ground. Rushing forward, he wound his arms around Raphael, burying his face in the column of his neck. He sobbed and wailed, letting every emotion from the past few days bubble over and spill. Just outside the door, Donnie, Leo, and Splinter listened.

"I'm sorry you feel so guilty," Raph grit his teeth, trying to hold it together. "I'm sorry you blame yourself. But  _we_  don't. We don't blame you for a goddamned thing. We only care that you're safe and alive and unharmed. That's all that fucking matters. Okay? Please don't cry, Mikey. It's okay. I swear, it's okay."

Mikey tightened his hold, sobbing harder when one broad hand cradled his shell. He knew his brothers loved him. He knew they wanted him safe.

He only wanted to return the favor.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments always appreciated!


End file.
